


142. Sad prayers for guilty bodies

by tveckling



Series: Dare to Write challenge [33]
Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Except there's a secret relationship because why not, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 21:55:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8177477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tveckling/pseuds/tveckling
Summary: Helpless. For once he asks for help, he can't do this by himself, but he has no way of knowing if he had been heard.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kecchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kecchan/gifts).



It was late, long into the night, but Mercutio couldn't sleep. It was one of those nights when nothing he did could make his mind quiet down, so he sat on the windowsill and let his thoughts wander. The moon was high in the sky; the charcoal painting he had made of it lay in his lap while the charcoal itself wandered between restless fingers. He tried to focus on painting, or simply thinking about something else, but his thoughts kept returning to the figure in his bed.

As if he had felt Mercutio's eyes returning to him Tybalt shifted with a deep sigh, lying on his side and reaching out a hand—that's where Mercutio should be lying. Mercutio watched Tybalt's eyes flutter open, and he waited while Tybalt searched for him with bleary eyes. When their eyes met Mercutio gave a cheeky grin and gave a little wave with his fingers.

"What y'doing," Tybalt muttered, his voice hoarse with the remains of sleep. His eyes kept dropping, Mercutio thought with amusement, he couldn't be fully awake. "I's cold. Com'ere."

"Of course, my dear," Mercutio answered gleefully and jumped to his feet. The sketchbook and piece of charcoal were thrown carelessly on his unruly desk as he passed it by. "I was just admiring the moon."

"Y'weird." The moment Mercutio slipped below the covers Tybalt latched on to him, sighing heavily. "Sleep."

Mercutio chuckled and held Tybalt close, pressing a kiss to the top of his head with a loud 'mwah'. "Yes, go to sleep. I'm right here."

It didn't surprise him to receive no answer, and Mercutio spent a moment smiling down at Tybalt, listening as his breathing evened out again. Then his eye caught the—thankfully shallow—cut on Tybalt's shoulder, and his smile disappeared. Clutching his lover closer Mercutio repeated his last words and forced back his tears.

_I'm right here._

Tybalt had almost been taken from him earlier that day. Mercutio tried to be part of all fights between Capulets and Montagues, or at least every one where Tybalt participated, but it was impossible. That day his uncle had demanded that he be present for some silly meeting with people from the neighboring areas—he would be able to say who were there or what it was about, if he was honest—and of course that had been one of the days when Tybalt managed to get himself into a fight. It had been broken up before anyone get badly harmed, but each wound Tybalt received only served to remind Mercutio that one lucky strike was all that was needed to remove a person from the world.

Once upon a time Mercutio had tried to stop the fighting. He had put himself bodily between blades to make them stop, he had tried to reason with members of both families, he had even tried to talk it over with Tybalt. He'd learned since then; now he made sure to participate in as many skirmishes as possible so he could control the outcome himself. If he was the one goading a fight then the others had to worry about stopping him—no one wanted to be the one shedding the Prince's blood—and if he was the one challenging Tybalt then neither of them would be truly hurt. It was the best possible solution for the situation as it was, he knew, but still there was something gnawing at him.

When it all came down to it he was powerless.

The thought burned and Mercutio gritted his teeth. There was nothing worse than being helpless, useless, _worthless_. He hated the feeling. That he was unable to help the one he loved, that was worse, so much worse, and he blinked away tears of frustration.

Tybalt was still there, though, alive and breathing, safe in his arms. If he could only stay there...

Mercutio sighed and laid his cheek against Tybalt's hair. When he spoke his voice was low, as to not wake his partner. "I have... my whole life I have gone to church, endured the long hours and early mornings. Since I was a babe, I've heard, since my family brought me. It's important for my family, to have a connection with the being that governs us all, apparently. I always thought it was horse shit. If you're even real, if you're even listening—and for that matter, why should you listen? But if you do, and if you are real, then you've really messed up. Everything is wrong, _humans_ are wrong, and if we are like this then what are you, that created us? If you're real you have plenty of explaining to do."

Mercutio paused and hugged Tybalt close. His voice was even lower, almost a whisper, when he spoke again. "But I'll ignore it. I'll forgive it, forget it, whatever you want. We'll draw a clean slate. All I ask is that you save him. Save Tybalt. I can't- I can't do it by myself. I need help, and isn't that what you're supposed to do? Help? Save us, or whatever? Then do it, save him! I don't care about your plans for me—torture me, cast me in disgrace from which I'll never recover, hurt me, kill me—you can do whatever you feel like, I don't care. But if he dies—" Mercutio swallowed heavily and scrunched his eyes closed, ignoring the feeling of wet eyelashes, "—I couldn't take it. I love him, and I can't help him, I can't keep him safe. You can, though, they all say it. You are God, you have enough power to save one man.

"You can do whatever you want with me, just save him. Please-" His voice broke and Mercutio had to take several deep breaths before his tongue produced any sounds. "I love him so bad. Please, if you're there, if you can hear me, save him. Let him live."


End file.
